Somewhat Tomb-ish For My Taste

Hey, writing in school again!

My day is being choreographed by Rod Serling. Here are the three main elements:

1. Inspectors from THE STATE are coming today, or are here today, to make sure that we have no illegal lamps or fans or tape on the wheels, or god forbid, doorstops, and anything else that THE STATE has deemed detrimental to the cause of public education.

2. The Guidance department has commandeered my library to give make-ups for last week's standardized testing, all week, periods 1, 2, and 3. Yesterday they also used about half of period 4. No one, and I mean no one, can come into the library while they're testing. (Well, I can, but no one else can use the library.)

3. Not only has the administration not solved my issue of who's going to cover the library when I have to go to the bathroom, they took away the few people that were assigned here. This was done by emailing those people about where to report for their new duty assignments. No one told me nuttin', except that the teacher who was upset about losing library duty told me.

And so it began.

The library doors are closed, because my doorstops are illegal and have been removed. It was as quiet as a freaking tomb in here, too quiet, and creepy. I don't hear hall noises, although I do hear the sound of the library door opening and noisily closing again and again. I didn't know my tinnitus was this loud during the day, or that I'm hearing as much interference on my hearing aids as I'm getting. Generally, our double doors are wide-open, welcoming. It provides nice ventilation -- I'm shvitzing in here today -- and no question about whether we're open or closed. Right now I have a big sign on a post in the hall to tell them all that we're open.

They came in today with SIX kids to test. Six make-up exams to give, for which they closed the library for periods 1, 2, and 3. Six kids who would have fit neatly into the conference room in the guidance office, the one they just had to have (and which used to be my reference section in the old library, before we moved out and guidance moved in.) Six kids who sat exclusively in the alcove section of the new library, where I shelve biography and a small collection of children's books.

Which I had to put on a cart -- the children's books -- because I needed them for a second period class downstairs, which I had to go to the classroom for, since they couldn't come here. What was neat was that I brought a USB barcode scanner and logged into my library system from there, and checked books out in the classroom. Never did that before. Anyway, I came back upstairs shortly before the end of second period and my library was ...

EMPTY. Empty, but with the doors unlocked.

You see, the testing finished early. So they left. No note, no telling the Media Aide in her office Hey, we're leaving now, so she could have locked the doors. What kind of guests are these who think they own the whole damn world? (I've been told more than once over the years by guidance counselors that they are the most important part of the school, what they do is more important than what anyone else does. This is what I'm dealing with.)

So I opened the library for third period, using the term loosely, because the doors are closed, but there's that sign, Five minutes to go until the end of third period, wondering if my fourth period library duty teacher has been re-assigned too, or if he's going to be here. Really really really needing to get to a potty somewhere; the one just down the stairs from me is unavailable, I may have mentioned, because it was against STATE regulations to have a lock on the door.

If I have no one to cover, I guess I'll close the library, go to the ladies' room, and call my association president to tell him that it may be time to start looking for that disabilities lawyer to handle my lawsuit.

Later ..

I got back from lunch to find email from the principal to the whole staff telling us that the inspection isn't happening today after all. It's been postponed, and will happen sometime within the next two weeks. Greeeeaaaat. I opened one of my doors, and propped it open with a big trash can.

My fourth period guy got here. Otherwise, I got no answer from the administration about what's going on. I did hear from a secretary (!) that all the library duty people have been re-assigned to help out in her office during their duty periods. !!!!!

Even so, I am being calm and even-tempered and all that good stuff because to be otherwise gets me nowhere at all, and can only hurt me. Even so, it's hard to believe that there are so many people who don't see what kind of jackasses they're being. All the time.




watching L & O :: ENTRY #2125
READING: Say You're One of Them by Uwem Akpan

I Continue to Exist

I've been so bad with the writing lately. I think part of it is that I'm a little overwhelmed by all the recent medical news and I'm not digesting it all that fast, so it's hard to know what to write. Things are off and on weird with my sister, mostly because she's going through a similar, but not quite the same, medical situation. I have to go to work every day, so that distracts me some, but I don't think she has a distraction, and so she's dealing with it very differently than I am.

What can I tell you? No job yet for the ever-persevering K, who continues to apply for every job she can find. In the meantime, she gets up in the morning and waits to be called to sub someplace.

As for me, school is actually good this year, aside from the Big Bad, which has to do with me being in the library alone and not having bathroom access when that happens; the actual library and its work are good. I'm busy, I have more good readers this year, lots of nice kids, and all that. I may sing a different tune next week after I've done all the freshman orientation classes -- about 25 -- by myself, but that's okay, too.

I'm going to start physical therapy tomorrow, and hoping that goes well. Actually, I'm hoping it's like getting a good massage that's covered by insurance. I can dream, can't I?

Oh hey, I went to the cardiologist yesterday and had a stress test and would you believe? It seems that I have one bodily system that actually works just the way it's supposed to! I know! I was astonished myself.

I was looking over some old entries I'd started that I have on Google docs, and I miss writing like that, the entry about something interesting, or something I'm passionate about. Too much health stuff lately. I'd like to get back to that, so I need to try to just do it. Perhaps if I can still hold my head up tomorrow night, I shall.




watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2124
READING: Say You're One of Them by Uwem Akpan

Still Among the Living and Un-Borged

I'm still here, just teetering on the edge of being overwhelmed by all this, and I've already talked this out today with the therapist (successful talk) and the Sibs (not so much.) And the Hubs, also good. I haven't had any of my parts replaced with cyborg implants yet, either.

I'm starting the new med tomorrow, and maybe that will help. It might at least eliminate the pain in my feet, which would be a good start. And not make me nauseous or otherwise sick, which would be nice.

I've got last night's Flash Forward to catch up on, and a call to OldFriend to fill her in in my details, if I can go through it one more time tonight. I'll try to write over the weekend.



watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2123
READING: Say You're One of Them by Uwem Akpan

The Medical Report

Oy. Pull up a chair. Pour yourself a cup of coffee.

I have to start with the punchline, which is to say, what the doctor said at the very end, when he was looking at the sheet on which he had to circle my diagnosis so that it would go into their medical records and billing. He held the sheet in front of him, and his pen in the air, and said "I don't even know where to start." Hmmm.

The bottom line is that I have nothing fatal, which is always a good thing. I have osteoarthritis in my right hip, my left knee, and my neck. I have a little fibromyalgia, so little that he's not even dealing with it (but I guess I show some classic symptoms, so that's how he knows.) That condition I have in my right knee that's going to make me get a knee replacement at some point, avascular necrosis, also showed up in my left elbow, and may be in more places, but it doesn't always show up on x-rays (of which I had many today.) The biggie is something called spondylitis, which is inflammation of the lumbar vertebrae and sacroileac, which is to say, the lower back, and which may be causing a lot of the pain in my extremities.

Whoo.

So I get to start taking a new med on Saturday, an immuno-suppresant, which is supposed to cut down on the inflammation, and then the pain. I start physical therapy next week, which should help the neck and the hip.

So there I am. I've been mostly laughing about all this, for some reason, which I guess is the attitude to have, if you can. I also got my hearing aids back, allegedly fixed, but I'll try them tomorrow. And tomorrow I'm also going to make some phone calls about to find out what accommodations a school is legally required to make for a teacher who falls under the Americans With Disabilities Act, since I just found out that the only bathroom in the building anywhere near me is going to be unavailable for a week, and that's assuming I get the chance to leave the library to use it, since they still haven't solved the issue of coverage for me when I need to go. Let's see what the law says they have to do. I hope it's something big.

I'm off to pick out my clothes for tomorrow and see if a heating pad helps my sore arm for a while.

'Night!




watching FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #2122
READING: The Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

Fffffttttt

It's taken three weeks of school and the second trip to Florida to wipe me out and put me back in the land of fatigue I've been living in for years. Up until now, I was pretty peppy. I'm sleeping well, too; I just don't have the energy to make it through the day. We're testing at school this week, which means the schedule is all jumbled up every day, morning classes in the afternoon and vice-versa, which makes everyone a little bit confused and off.

Other than the tired, though, I'm okay. (Other than the constant aches and pains, I mean, as well.) Doctor tomorrow right after school.

The big excitement here is that K had a very good job interview yesterday and is teaching a demo lesson tomorrow at the school, to kids who will be her students in a few weeks if she gets the job. It's not in B-Town, fortunately. She worked on her lesson all day today, and then came into school and my friend The Other Chai, who is as master a master teacher as there could be, helped her polish the timing and pacing. This one has some real potential, folks. I'm just saying.

I don't even want to eat tonight, just collapse. Ah well, maybe later.





watching L & O :: ENTRY #2121
READING: The Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

Newsy Me

I must really be back to my old routine because here I am, starting my entry at work. It's really the first time since school started that I've had a minute to breathe. I didn't even get to finalizing my last book order, checking the shipment against the order and submitting it for payment, until today, even though the books came in during the summer.

As for right now, they're having a board meeting here in my library tonight, so I've gotten my desk all cleared off of personal items and work in progress; I don't like anybody touching my stuff. I've had to relocate a lot of things, and will definitely remember to lock my desk drawers when I go. I've come back after meetings like this and found all my pencils gone, or my desk chair missing.

So, school. In one sense, the year has started off great for me. I've been very busy and have been getting a lot done. The problem is that they haven't been so good about putting someone here with me each period, so I've had to close the library at random times just to go to the bathroom, and every day during one of the lunch periods, since I'm required by contract to go to lunch, but they don't send anyone to cover so that the library can stay open. This is major suckage, folks. If I were the parent of a kid in this school, I'd be calling the superintendent daily. (Of course, my kids didn't come to the library during lunch, so I wouldn't have know. But you know what I mean.) I hope people are complaining, because that's they only way they'll do anything about it.

Kids. My kids are okay, I guess, improved since the trip, anyway. I think this is just a stressful time for R, and she lashed out a little, but I'm all good with all of it now. I just want her to be unstressed, and happy. As for K, still unemployed, but trying to keep her chin up, and still looking, and hopefully starting to sub next week, so that'll be something coming in.

Hubs. Happy as a clam, but not so much income rolling in, so that's tight. I'm doing my best not to let it bother me. Did I mention I'm going back to the therapist tomorrow?

The FIL. Not so good. Still in lots of pain, and the MIL says he doesn't seem to be interested in anything. That's seriously not good. I don't know how long he'll hold on like this.

My health. I am feeling better some, but I definitely have something going on, thus next week's visit to the rheumatologist, who is, essentially, a specialist in immunology, and therefore, in autoimmune diseases, which is most likely what I've got going on here, since Crohn's is one of those. My Crohn's is behaving itself, mostly, which means no pain and no nasty, constant D, but still, when I gotta go, I gotta go.

I was just down in our central office a few minutes ago, and someone was visiting there with a four month old baby. Oh boy, I want me one of those. Not my own baby, god forbid, a grand-baby. It doesn't even have to be R's or K's, one of my sister's kids could have one and I could just hold it a lot. That would be fine for now. But one of the twins wants only four-legged babies, and the other is only married a year, although I wouldn't be surprised by an announcement any day now.

Ach, I just shifted in my chair and now my back is spasming, but not big time, just a little. I wanna go home!

There you have it, me in a nutshell.




watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2120
READING: The Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

Okay, So ...

no posts from Florida this weekend. It's not that I wasn't thinking about you. It's just that traveling with my family has become such a mental strain, I couldn't find the time to de-stress and write for five minutes.

Who would ever have thought that of my near and dear, the easiest one to travel with is my husband?

Anyway, I'm back, all seems peaceful and serene, at least at the moment. I haven't heard from R today, so maybe she's still aggravated with me because, after all, I did take her to freaking Florida for the weekend and rented a nice car for her to drive around and basically stayed out of her hair, but I guess I was smothering her or stressing her or something. Or so she told me Friday night after we arrived, so it ended up that I did spend a bunch of time alone, because my sister never left her hotel room except for the actual bar Mitzvah, at least while we were there. (I did get to hang out with her in her hotel room a couple of times, with her husband there, as opposed to in my otherwise empty room six doors away, but I digress.) Anyway, I decided not to let anything get me upset, so it didn't; when I was alone, I sat and read, and several times, Wonderful Niece and her Wonderful Husband made sure to include me, and that was delightful. Flying twice in three days is way too much for me. Glad to be home.

Oh, school sucks, but perhaps that will work itself out. I asked one of our union reps today if they would supply me an attorney if I had to sue the school system under the Americans With Disabilities Act. She said probably. Then I asked if the same attorney would represent me when I had to sue the union for the same reason. So things are hopping at Bizarro Town Senior High School.

Off to see the GI doctor after school tomorrow for a little fine tuning. I dropped off my hearing aids after school today -- again -- to be sent back to the shop.

In other news, I am not bankrupt, and I still have my iPhone to play with, so I guess things aren't all bad.




watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2119
READING: The Last Olympian by Rick Riordan

Strange Day

First, I have Back to School Night tonight, which I hate; I'm leaving in about a half hour. Virtually no one comes to the library unless they're lost. I do have a bulletin board to work on -- it's a work in progress, not something I needed to have up for tonight, and anyway, I just thought of it today -- so that's something to do. Years ago, we would always have this in late October, and I would have a baseball game on the library TV, since it was usually during the playoffs. Too early now.

I had a very busy day at school, five classes in for ID cards. It's a strain for me to be on my feet that long, or on an uncomfortable stool in an awkward position, so I was pretty much hurting all day. Oddly, I feel better now, no idea why.

Speaking of odd, K's been oddly cranky off and on the last couple of hours. I am much more the pacifier than the confronter, so I was just letting it go. Oh, and I made that therapy appointment for next week. Not that the two are related ... [looks around and up at the ceiling] ... la la la la.

I am so packed for tomorrow's trip. All I'll have to do when I get home from school is put my last things in my carry-on, and I'm done. Unfortunately, here I am at the last book in the series I'm reading, and it's not out in paperback yet. I suppose I could download the ebook, but it feels kind of silly, since I have one of the library's two hardcover copies right here on my desk. I guess it'll depend on how heavy my bag is when I sling it over my shoulder tomorrow at leaving time.

Which should be fourish-something. I'll try to post over the weekend, maybe a picture or two.



watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2119
READING: The Last Olympian by Rick Riordan

AWESOME!

How cool is this?

-- Post From My iPhone

Socialism? Still?

I cannot believe that people are saying that the president is trying to turn children into socialists by asking that they watch an address he is making to them while they are in school.

First: socialism? How can anybody actually be worried about that in 2009? Kids, socialism became the policy of the Republican party when they took over the banks last year, remember that? And the automobile industries? That's not history, it's current events.

Second: I was looking for information on the speech earlier today, and I came up with lots of hits for mommy-bloggers concerned about their children being forced to watch this in school, and how many of them were keeping their children home. WTF? Who's anti-government now, hmmm? Here's the thing: he's not campaigning anymore. HE IS THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. He has only one agenda at this point, and it's us, all of us. If that's what the anti-Obamans wanted us to believe when Bush was president, why isn't it still good now that the shoe is on the other foot?

Third: Read the text of the speech. It's very sweet, and it's just what you would want someone to say to your kids. Work hard because it's worth it. Your country needs you. It's not political at all. It's lovely.

Fourth: I know that the speech is aimed at all schoolchildren, and I hope that there are those first and second graders who hear it and listen and for whom it becomes the motivation to succeed. I know that in my high school, it will be on everywhere (and I know that many teachers will complain about it taking away from class time, the curmudgeons), but I just don't know how much impact it will have on teenagers. Or should I say, how many teenagers will be impacted by it. I hope they all are. It's a universal message: work hard and have pride in yourself and it will save America.

Not socialist to me.




watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2117
READING: The Labyrinth by Rick Riordan

After All

today was another day. (with apologies to Scarlet O'Hara)

So. I really did let myself get out of hand yesterday, but I got my control back, with a little help from my daughter friends, and today was a much better day, in general. We did go dress shopping, but before we went to J.Crew and the like at the mall, we went to Target, where K got two dresses, the same but with different prints, and she'll try them on and see which one looks better. Which was good, because the mall was a big fat zero.

She's like a different person, pulled all the way out of the doldrums. (Still needs to see someone, I think, but after the trip. Me, too.) She's not worried about the dress; if these aren't good, she has a few days to look, and is, after all, not employed, so she has the time. Does that mean everything works out? I don't know, I'm just happy she's happy. And I specified adjoining rooms at the hotel, and we have three seats together on the flight down. (We have no assigned seats on the flight back for any of us yet.)

In other news, I really cannot say what is going on with me health-wise, other than the Crohn's seems to be very nicely controlled. Other than that, I'm in a lot of pain all over most of the time. The worst pain is in my arms, shoulders to fingertips, and my feet. And of course, not wishing to be left out, my back went into spasms a few hours ago, and that's been nasty, too. I assume arthritis, but we shall see; more doctors to see after the trip. My sister was recently diagnosed with a form of arthritis, but with the pain, she gets a kind of debilitating fatigue. I don't have that; in fact, I'm less tired than I usually am. Go figure.

Despite the book title I have down there -- I'm still working on that -- I've been reading a YA fantasy series, The Olympians, by Rick Riordan. There are definitely some similarities to Harry Potter, but it is not at all a copy, and it's fun to read. (Twelve year old boy discovers that his father is Poseidon, has to save the world, yada yada yada. But it's written with humor and contemporary references and reads fast. I'm on book three out of five, with a mission to finish it by tomorrow night so I can get it back to school on Monday.)

My plan for tomorrow is to work on doing my hair better, with some new products I got. And a possible visit to or from R. And yes, now I'm fully packed for Friday's trip. Really.




watching L&O:SVU :: ENTRY #2116
READING: The Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

I Just Want You To Know ...

that I don't just vent to you when I'm miserable. I vent when it all works out, too.

After I posted a couple of hours ago, I called R, who talked me down off the ledge, so to speak. I was feeling a lot better about a lot of this after I talked to her, and I felt better able to talk to K about it, too.

Then I got an email response from my cousin, who said that hell yes, they wanted K to come, and just let them know! So I promised a final answer to them by tomorrow night.

K came downstairs and we talked some more; she had decided not to go. I said I respected that, but she should know that we all would be happy if she joined us, and she would have a really good time. She wavered, but said it would be so rude to ask them if she could come at this late date, and I showed her their email and I could see her start to melt.

Here's the plan. If we can get her a dress tomorrow, she'll go. Yes, it will cost. Yes, I'll be getting another hotel room; I'll ask for adjoining. It's not like I expected R to hang out with me in the room after the shindig; I knew she'd be hanging out with her cousins then, and I'm happy that K will be there to hang out with them, too. She's so depressed; I couldn't see leaving her out. I was thinking of myself selfishly before, which is okay, because I got it out of the way. Now I hope that this is a good thing for her, because she really needs it. I'm not having a heart attack. I've just been having some heartburn lately, which is why I made an appointment to review that medication. I wasn't only being selfish, I was being melodramatic. I'm good at that, too.

So that's where we stand. Dress shopping tomorrow, then we call the hotel and the airlines. My sister, who encouraged K to go this afternoon, is all over me because I'm getting them a separate hotel room; I should have just said no. So I guess she's not 100% over whatever it was last week that caused her to make pronouncements over my behavior and decisions and choices.

Whatever. I have a book to read. (Oh, btw, I also finished packing. You knew I would.)



watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2115
READING: The Outliers by Malcolm Glaldwell

If It Ain't One Thing ...

... it's another.

Latest chapter of my life: things appear to be okey-dokey with the Sibs. Well, that's nice. Now all we have to deal with is the current shitstorm over next weekend's trip to Florida.

I'm going on record, as if this weren't already obvious: I'm not too keen on going, myself. I'm going because it's the right thing to do. R said she would go with me because I don't want to be alone, not in the hotel room, not the only me in a sea of the Sibs' kids. Not that I don't totally love her kids, I certainly do. But she has convinced two of her kids that they must go because it's a family thing, so Wonderful Niece and her husband are going, and JJ has flown in from California, and is joining us in Florida. I wanted someone to be with me. Is that a crime? I wanted a relaxing trip. I haven't spent a big chunk of time alone with R in a long time. I wanted to get as much out of it as I could, especially considering that it's costing me money I don't really have to spend on it.

K decided from the beginning not to go, which was okay with me. She and I could use a break from each other. Her hope was that she would be so busy planning lessons for her new job that she couldn't go. But there is no job, and she is depressed, no matter how much she thinks she's avoiding it. She is.

Today, R and the GF came by, and we went over to the Sibs so she could finally meet him. Out of the clear blue nowhere, she started encouraging K to come along on the trip next week. When we got home, R whispered to me that she has a flight voucher that she will put towards K's flight, if she wants to go. Then K figured we were talking about her behind her back, and stormed out.

Gaaaahhhhhhh!! Can't anybody leave anything just alone anymore? Here's where it stands at the moment:

1. I emailed the cousins to see if it would be okay to bring K. I haven't got an answer yet, but I'm sure they'll be fine with it.
2. There a seat available on the plane, twice as much as I paid for each of the first two tickets. The voucher will cover half of that. I won't be able to get a third seat near us, I'm sure, so they would sit together, and I would be where? Alone.
3. R is not thrilled about three of us in one hotel room, and K is conditionally opposed to it. The hotel has extra rooms. So that would double the cost of the hotel, and the two of them would be in one room, and I would be where? Alone.

K is not even sure if she wants to go. She thinks everyone will make her feel guilty if she doesn't go (but not me, for sure), and that she will feel awful whether she goes or not. (This is because she is depressed.) As for me, I just feel like shit. I wanted no stress. I had about 24 hours of no stress between the thing with my sister finally being over, and now this. Hey, maybe I should just send the two of them, and stay home.

My chest is tight again, and I don't like that. It's not a heart attack, because I'm not in other pain and have no other symptoms and am not, btw, dead. (And I'm having a stress test in a couple of weeks, so that'll all be checked out.) But I don't like this at all.





watching THE GILMORE GIRLS :: ENTRY #2114
READING: The Outliers by Malcolm Glaldwell

Corn on the Cob

About a month ago, they opened a farmer's market in town. It's held in the parking lot of the Korean church every Wednesday. The Hubs walks there at some point during the day and brings home goodies, especially corn. We've been having corn on the cob for dinner every Wednesday since then.

For most people, corn on the cob is a side dish, a vegetable, and I suppose it always was for me, too. But my father would tell stories of his childhood, when his family piled in the old car and spend all day every Saturday and Sunday at "the Cape" -- he grew up near Cape Cod -- and on the way home they would stop at a farm stand and get a bushel of corn and that would be their dinner. (Not both days, I presume.)

I like corn on the cob, as most people do, and I associate it with Taunton, the place my father grew up, but not for the same reasons. My grandmother died when I was eight, and my grandfather years before that, so if we had corn feasts on the way home from the Cape, I don't remember them. What I remember is Uncle Ben.

Uncle Ben was not like anyone else in my family; I don't think he was like anyone else in his family, either. He was the husband of my father's oldest sister and they married in their forties, although they had known each other all their lives, grew up around the block from each other, and their mothers were friends. My Aunt Rose was a schoolteacher, very dignified and refined and soft-spoken. Uncle Ben was a boisterous, growling, cigar-smoking fanny-pincher. He was short, even by my family's standards, about 5'2", and had been a Marine in World War II and Korea. Let me see if I can come up with a picture:


Somewhere there's a picture of him actually pinching Aunt Rose's bottom, but I couldn't find that. Anyway, I always adored him; my earliest memory of him is before they were married. When I was about six, my grandmother sold her house, and moved in with Aunt Rose and Uncle Ben, into the house they had just bought. I loved their house, I can't believe I don't have a picture of it. Wait.


Yay! I found it among the pictures I scanned a few weeks ago, unlabeled and not in the file it belongs in, but there it was. I don't know why I loved this place, but I did. It was an older bungalow, but the kitchen had been all newly remodeled just before they moved in, so that's an up-to-date 1959 kitchen. Here are the cabinets (and co-incidentally, my parents):


and the tile. Anyway, it was the first house I had ever seen that had a garbage disposal in it. (I've never even lived in a house with a garbage disposal, as they're illegal here in B-Town, where I've lived most of my life.) Uncle Ben adored the garbage disposal. It was his baby. (There were no actual children in this house, unless I was visiting.)

My aunt was a good cook, and we always had a lovely dinner every night we were there. After dinner, she would serve coffee, which my parents didn't do at home. We would all sit around the table as the adults had their coffee, and Uncle Ben got everything ready for the garbage disposal.

Got everything ready, Gracie? Oh, my. He would take everyone's plate and sort the refuse onto various plates, so that food of similar textures could be scooped in together. Every so often, when he had what must have been the optimum amount, he would go scrape something in -- say mashed potatoes -- and turn it on. He was absolutely a craftsman when it came to corn on the cob. Which we had often in the summer, farmstands and all.

He would take everyone's cobs on a plate, and you know, even if you're a member of The Clean Plate Club, you leave cobs behind. He would work with a very sharp knife, and while the rest of us were chatting and the grown-ups sipping coffee, he would slowly and methodically carve down each cob into pieces about an inch long. Remember, these were people who could eat a lot of corn, so there were a lot of cobs. I don't recall how long it took him, only that I couldn't take my eyes off of what he was doing. Once had a heaping plate of carved coblets, he would feed them to the disposal, watching carefully to make sure that each one got ground up and didn't jam up the works. Every so often he would be called into the conversation, and he would answer "Aye-yuh" in a New England drawl, almost like a Mainer would say. At some point while he was doing this, I'm sure, he would stick a cigar in his mouth and light it up. A cigar was never made that was too cheap for Uncle Ben, and they were all rank. But he would give me the cigar bands to wear like rings, and that made me very happy.

Anyway, to this day, when we have a corn-on-the-cob meal, either the Hubs or I will look at the stack of cobs and know that we are both thinking of Uncle Ben. He actually put on his cob-carving show for the Hubs the first time we went to visit them right after we were married. That was just before he took us on a tour of the invisible Army base, but perhaps I'll save that story for another time.




watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2113
READING: The Outliers by Malcolm Glaldwell

It Has Begun

First, let me thank you for the wonderfully supportive and insightful comments several people left on yesterday's post. I am much better today, and I had considered a lot of those things myself. I think she does this when she's totally overwhelmed, the way a child can lash out at mommy, always secure in mommy's love. We'll be okay. It's just a rough patch. But I think I will try to go back to my therapist for awhile.

School. I almost posted from my phone this morning, but it would have been rude, so I wrote it down for later. And now Gmail's down, so I have to post from the phone anyway. Here's what I wrote:

8:55, in the auditorium

In what must be a cost-cutting scheme, we have no keynote speaker to kick off the year. But the superintendent is summarizing -- with power point -- a keynote speaker he saw somewhere this summer. Seriously. It's hot and smelly in here.

Good news so far: Every single person I've shared greetings with since I got here at 7:15 has said "I love your hair!" Conclusion: everyone at home sucks.

Mediocre news so far: The principal says to close the library when I go to lunch until he works things out. Good for me. For the kids, not so much.


-- Post From My iPhone